On the Edge
by Anrheithwyr
Summary: Hannah had come to help Hogwarts, hoping there was a way of repairing herself, even as she repaired the school, but all that seemed to be happening was new cracks appearing in her shield. She seemed to be falling when she wanted to fly. Hannah Abbott was on the edge of the end of the world, and soon, she was going to fall off.


_**For the 'HP Potion Competition' by Black Boxed, using **__**Essence of Dittany**__** – Write about rebuilding the castle after the Final Battle. **_

_**For the 'If You Dare Challenge' by Slytherin Cat, using prompt # 133, the end of the world. **_

_**Also written for the 'Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition', Game Day 4: Random Number Selection, using prompt 7: fear. Also using Chaser prompts 7, 8, and 15. (Chaser 2, Puddlemere United)**_

….

_"Here's to alcohol, the rose colored glasses of life." ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and Damned_

_"I hear the world is ending soon. When we go, and we are all going to go, I will be part of it." – Neil Hilborn, This Is The End_

….

Hannah sat on the edge of what remained of the bridge, staring down below her, where a long fall awaited for anyone clumsy enough to slip. Although it was late-May, the air was cold where she was, and she wrapped a coat around her, trying to ignore the harsh breeze that bit at her cheeks. It was freezing out, and she was going numb, from the tips of her fingers all the way to her ears, all alone on the top of the bridge. Behind her, near the front door, people bustled back and forth, yelling and talking and just _being together_. The world had collapsed, and they were trying to rebuild it, one stone at a time. There had been no shortage of volunteers, practically begging to rebuild the castle, to make it a home once more for the future generations that would walk through its halls.

It hurt more than ought to, Hannah thought to herself, somewhat numbly. It hurt, all over, just the aching loss of a human life. How had this happened? She wondered. How had they allowed it to reach this stage, when the only way out was murder? She wasn't sure, but even here, with the war over, she was afraid-terribly, irrationally afraid, because it all just seemed too easy. Voldemort had been dead for three weeks, and she still woke up screaming, because there was no way he was dead. He couldn't be dead, he had been too strong, too harsh. How was it that everything was fine now? How was it that she was alive, and the school was being rebuilt?

Hannah had been one of the first to come back, so eager to fix her second home, so eager to see it back to its old self. She spent hours each day in the hot sun, sleeping outside in the cold air because there weren't enough beds. She had blisters and callouses, scars and bruises that all told a story of a girl who was throwing herself into repairing Hogwarts; was she hoping it would repair her, as well? Her harsh eyes told the story of a girl who was desperate to get away from the bodies, and she knew that the others were worried for her. Hannah signed up for any job they needed her to, because her school needed to be fixed, but she needed fixing even more.

When she slept, she could still see the cloths draped over a long line of bodies, nameless martyrs and children and older people. Some she had recognised, like Susan, who had made her gag and cry out like someone was strangling her; Hannah's best friend, gone in a flash, and she hadn't even known. Others, Hannah had never even seen before, had never gotten to know. There was no second chances with these strangers, no way of turning back time and making things right. It was the end of the world for them all, and Hannah didn't know how to make everything right. She was terrified, even now. Afraid of collapsing, afraid of giving up and losing emotionally a battle she had already won physically. Hannah Abbott was afraid of herself, and the power a dead man had over her.

"Abbott." Said a voice behind her, smarmy and snotty and cold. She didn't even need to look behind her to know it was uppity Zacharias Smith, the worst excuse for a Hufflepuff that Hannah had ever met. He had run away before the Battle had even started, hiding somewhere like a coward, only to return when it was all over, and he knew he was safe. Hannah wanted to punch him every time they spoke. "Fancy seeing you here, huh?" He was smirking at her, his eyes crinkled and glittering with laughter. "I thought you never left the castle these days; I thought you were too busy being Miss Fix-It all the time."

"Stuff it, Smith. No one wants to hear you talk. Just because you're a bloody descendant of Helga Hufflepuff herself doesn't mean you're so important." Zacharias liked to bring up that fact whenever he could, using it to his advantage; Hannah had always suspected it was because he knew he didn't really belong in Hufflepuff with the rest of them. "Why are you even still here, anyway? I would have thought ran away by now-too much hard work for the likes of you, yeah?" She was being rude, but Smith had always brought out the worst in her; it was awful of her, she knew, but with Smith, she just didn't care about being the sweet little Hufflepuff she had been raised to be.

"Actually, I was just coming over to ask if you wanted to visit The Three Broomsticks with me. After all, it's getting late, the day is winding down, and you look like you could use a cold beer." She raised an eyebrow at him, bemused. What would he want with her? Smith had spent his entire life trying to disassociate himself from the rest of the Hufflepuffs; why was he coming to her now, if not to mock her. Smith apparently could read the emotions on her face, because he smirked again, chuckling. "I just need someone to go down with me, Abbott. Don't feel so special; I'm not asking you out or anything. Just two acquaintances, walking to the Three Broomsticks-I'll be out of your hair as soon as possible."

Maybe she'd been hit on the head, or had a sudden flash of compassion for this idiotic boy. Maybe she was insane, or just feeling lonely, and in need of a drink. Hannah herself wasn't entirely sure what, exactly, led her to her feet. She wasn't sure what caused her to nod her head, or agree to walk with him; it certainly wasn't a logical, rational process that led her to follow him from the bridge to the winding dirt path. One thing she knew for sure, though, this was not going to end well.

….

Hannah had never gotten drunk before, but she was certainly inebriated now. Sure, there had been wild celebrations in the Hufflepuff Common Room, usually with some Butterbeer, but those parties had ended well before midnight, and she had only ever had a shot or two; enough to get tipsy, but never drunk. The lights were spinning now, though-really, the entire place was spinning, and she was beginning to wonder why she had even come her with Zacharias, because he was really just an arse. He had left her after the third shot, claiming he had to pee, but she could see him now, laughing along with some girl in a dark corner of The Three Broomsticks. But she doesn't really mind; she used him just as much as he's used her, and it's not like they were ever going to sleep together, really.

She tried standing up, her legs wobbling, and she gripped the bar counter. This had been a mistake, a dumb one especially for her. She stared at the clock on the wall for longer than should have been necessary, trying to figure out the time. It was after one, she determined, and with an annoyed hissing noise, she decided to hunt down Smith and tell him she intended on going back to the castle. He probably wouldn't care, or even notice, but it was better than leaving him with his girl with no idea where she was; maybe he'd assume she was dead, or maybe he wouldn't ever think of her again. The bar was noisy with people as she walked over to him, clearing her throat loudly to get his attention.

"I'm leaving, Smith." She said over the noise to Zacharias, who only shrugged and rolled his eyes, much to his new girl's amusement. She tittered loudly, and it was obvious the two of them were both even drunker than Hannah. "Thanks for inviting me here with you. Really," she said at his puzzled, somewhat disbelieving look. "It was wonderful. At least we had fun, right? Or, at least _you _had fun, from the looks of it. Good night." She left then, and Zacharias didn't call her back to him, making it clear how he felt about _her_. Good, screw him, she thought somewhat bitterly, stomping her way back to the castle. Even in May, it had dropped down to chilly temperatures while they were inside, and she shivered.

The path back to the castle was long and dark, and she was the only one around for miles dumb enough to be outside at two in the morning. She scowled as she walked, trying to avoid stumbling, and cursing herself for ever having agreed to go anywhere with Smith, let alone to a bloody bar. She passed by trees that reached for the sky like hands grabbing at clouds; Hannah shivered, telling herself over and over the she was alone. _Alone_. There was no one else here, no one wanted to hurt her. She was in no danger, none at all. Yet, why was it that the shadows seemed to move strangely, or that there seemed to almost be a crunching behind her, as if someone was following her?

Hannah sped up, trying to convince herself that she was drunk and an idiot. Why would anyone else be on an old dirt path at nearly two in morning? She was acting paranoid, that was all. She was being a paranoid, overly-scared idiot. Get yourself together, Hannah, she thought to herself. There is no one around, Hannah. So, why did her palms sweat, or her heart race? Hannah walked a little faster, as if that would help her get away from her fears; but the crunching only seemed to be getting louder and faster. The wind had begun to pick up, and Hannah wanted to scream. She was alone, wasn't she? _Wasn't she? _

"Leave me alone!" she yelled loudly, hoping that it was just someone walking nearby. But something told her it was more. Hogwarts seemed, recently, to be haunted. Oh, sure, there were ghosts all around, but it seemed like the entire place was just seeping with the raging energy of Voldemort, and those who had died. Hannah had never confessed this fear to anyone else, in case they laughed at her for being ridiculous, but she honestly felt like Voldemort's darkness was just lying under her feet, waiting for her to trip. "Go to hell where you belong." She said, more quietly this time, her voice shaking with fear. "Please, just leave me alone. I just want to be left alone. Leave me alone! Why can't you just go away? We beat you, you horrible monster, why can't you just accept that and leave me alone?"

Hannah ran then, a full out sprint, panting and sweating, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop, because if she did, the darkness would catch up with her. She screamed loudly and swore several times, trying to stop her shaking hands, her pounding heart. She was so afraid, so terrified of the darkness of _him_, who even dead, seemed to have permanently infected the place. Hogwarts wasn't her home anymore, was it? No, he had taken that away from her, clearly, and she was so terribly afraid. It was the end of the world for Hannah, and she wasn't sure how to fix it. And so, Hannah ran from the darkness that seemed to follow her everywhere she went, never stopping, never leaving her alone.

Hannah had come to help Hogwarts, hoping there was a way of repairing herself, even as she repaired the school, but all that seemed to be happening was new cracks appearing in her shield. She seemed to be falling when she wanted to fly. Hannah Abbott was on the edge of the end of the world, and soon, she was going to _fall off. _


End file.
